Burnt Flower

Cold Feet

The source of every boy of a tender age is to seek fun and create nuisance. Now this doesn't necessarily conform with all boys in general since there are some who find joy in other reserved situations. However true this might be, it might seem that wards disposal of their training and mannerism of the kid tends to shapen his lifestyle and interfere with the natural lifestyle of a male infant. Which thus leads me to question whether it could be true that all boys were born rogue and playful and the possibility of Parents or guardian interference with this trait results into it alteration and brings about some dynamisms in the child's Charisma. Whatever the case might be. My childhood had been so blunt and frisky. The only person who threatened it existence was my dad who I sometimes tried to keep at bay as much as possible. Of course there was always Grandma to protect me but even that wasn't enough as there were times in which I was rather unlucky and i find myself in his awaiting trap. Most of my hooliganism can be prone to my unrestrained need to visit friends which my parents consider as a frivolous movement constituting my misbehavior and negligence. To my own knowledge then, I saw them as being some strict symbol(and indeed they were) who only find fun in making my life miserable, for I didn't see my essence staying domicile in the house all day practically doing nothing or worse watching my sisters mingle with their friends or play with their stupid dolls. Friends, I figured was a core necessity for my childhood. However there were times whereby some far away cousins do visit. I remember one in particular. Her name was Fareeha. She got so immense with trying to friend me and of course she was all fun and all but I hated the fact that whenever the older ones attributed her as my wife she was always affirming it accreditation and I found it rather upsetting. I had got all red and clarify my innocence in the matter by screaming "She's Not my wife!" and skippering off in embarrassment. She would always see to it that I get every necessary attention and in situations were snacks and the likes were being shared. She'd made sure she requested for mine in my stead and bring it to me. Irrespective of this gesture I never saw the establishment of a more mutual bond than that of the fact that she was a girl and girls were boring pest. Judging from my memory of her. I believe I remember her as a fair little kid roughly of my height but more weightier than I. She has this big smile whenever she spotted me and she was always running after me in a bid to catch up with my next line of mischief. The last time I saw her. She was way different from my imaginative description of our childhood days. She'd become a lot taller than I'll ever be. Way much bigger that reminds of women who kickbox and with such a voice as thick as any man's could be . But then she was more beautiful and she dresses like a man except for her long hijab. She was nothing compared to my memory and our meeting had relatively started awkward. At the end of it all we talked into the night, discussing several subject which caught our interest but never crossing over the bridge of our childhood days. That was better left bottled up. The next day before their eventual departure. She'd become so reluctant and had wanted to wait behind even if it was just a day longer but all good things don't last. I never even tried reaching out to her again but she's a family and an identifiable one at that so I believe someday, sometime I'll get to see her again. There were also instances where I had to travel instead to meet certain cousins. Most of which involves my dad younger sister's kid "Hassan". The family was considerably a well to do kind, so it was always exciting and thrilling whenever I go on a visit to their place for vacation. I remembered during a point where I was seated in their living room having just arrived from the journey and Hassan had gave me a friendly knock from behind. I'd spun around only to get hold of nothing. then he'd appeared from nowhere and startled me as a welcoming message. Hassan had lots of cool toys, stories, Tv for cartoons and even video games to play with plus a nice loving sweet auntie "Sister Ope" who happens tragically to have passed away. She had this soothing smile and cooks us delicious delicacies to our delight. She also taught me basic mathematics while Hassan was busy with his french Teacher and she doesn't revolt against our desire to watch cartoon network. A channel on their DStv program then, even if it means forfeiting her favorite ones. She was an angel in disguise and I really do miss her. Thereupon comes the gals, also cousins who had come to visit Hassan. There was Salma and Simi. Salma, if I'm to rely on my bleak memory was a rather slim pretty girl. She was always all over Hassan while he plays the building block game. Of course I was a little envious but I dared not show it. Simi on the other hand was well .... Simi. she always hung around to play with me instead and when Hassan traveled to France, Salma also travelled. I was all she had. So I kept her company by formulating exciting stories that got her on hedge. There were times we played the family scenerio too. The first house in which the family had lived. we were mostly sleeping on mats. I had been partially perverted then by my older sis friend. So why we slept, I had drew Salma closer and when I discovered she was all over me we'd done all sorts of unspeakable things but once I caught the scent of my Auntie coming down to inspect us with a lantern. I'd immediately withdraw before she caught a glimpse of my unprincipled conduct. When they moved to their new house. Things were different then, Salma had grown even more beautiful and I didn't wanna take unreasonable chances even tho we slept on the same bed. That is I, Hassan and Salma. I was then sleeping at the center of the duo. On a particular night, i allowed my urge to get the better hold of me. No sooner had she slept, I touched her face gently hoping she doesn't wake up and when she didn't. I proceed to grab her waist and draw her to me. In the course of doing this, She rolled towards me instead and wrapped her legs around my waist letting loose of her wrapper which she always slept in. I was dazed and confused on my next line of action. I started touching her and she moaned out some few words. It was at this stage I heard my Aunt's footsteps coming towards our room. I became paranoid and soaked with petrification. I tried pushing her off hastily but the more I tried, the more she cuddled me more. When the footsteps got much closer. I heard her stop just outside the door room and as soon as the doorknob started sliding, I tightened my eyelid together hating myself and dreading the inevitable. She walked in and there was silence for like forever and then I heard her retreating footsteps. It was like a miracle but now I'm not quite sure it was. She had probably overlooked it and taken it as a probable coincidence. Yet I wondered if Salma was even aware of what transpired that night because the very next day it was like I was only only soul alive that witnessed the whole situation that night. Perhaps she had and had only pretended not to be conscious either. Anyways years from then. Salma had grown rather bigger too, just like Fareeha but less prettier (perhaps it was just my sentiment and opinion). The last time we met. We hardly said a word to each other. She'd become so estranged to me and for once she appears to be more of a stranger than a family. Hassan on his own was in the United States, studying Medicine at Cambridge and here I am visiting a world long forgotten.